Bad Bad People (Don't Live In Our House)
by Vroomian
Summary: Masae pulled Aizen aside the next day. "You have to marry me." (Aizen/OC, Morally Grey OC, Pre Turn Back the Pendulum Arc)
1. Chapter 1

**alright, here we go. title from Let's get married by the bleachers because I'm goddamn hilarious**

* * *

 _For Aizen and Masae, it ends like this:_

 _A tiny house, worn down with living. There was a living room, tatami mats on the floor. Papers and ink-dipped brushes scattered across the low wooden table in a controlled mess. On one wall, an oak bookshelf filled with notebooks, most hand-bound. On the top shelf sat a large glass jar, filled to the brim with hundreds of origami stars. Sitting next to the jar is a beautiful work of calligraphy, framed. It read:_

On the path in the desolate field,

The shadows overlapped and

Parted.*

 _Past the bookshelf, there is a tiny kitchen, and in the tiny kitchen, there is a man with sand-colored hair growing long enough to tie back with a red cord. Messy bangs framed his face, falling into a pair of concentrated dark blue eyes. He was older than he looked. He was preparing dinner,_ _a kitchen knife in one hand_ _._

 _A gold ring hung from his neck on a leather cord. It shone in the last rays of light pouring through the window, a harder, colder counterpoint to the honey gold of the sun._

 _The front door, old pale wood barely hanging on its hinges, creaked open. The young man doesn't turn around, but he called out a familiar greeting. "Welcome home."_

 _He got no reply._

 _His hands stilled. The ring swung on its cord, shining. A particular silence grew and grew and grew until there was nothing but the buzzing of the cicadas outside._

 _The young man let out a long sigh. "I don't suppose this can wait until after dinner?"_

 _(There was no surprise in the young man._

 _This end was a long time coming.)_

 _The crying of cicadas outside grew louder. The noise sounded so far away. The small house existed in its own bubble and only the two of them existed._

 _A low chuckle, full of genuine mirth. "I'm afraid not, Masa."_

 _Masae turned around, knife in hand flaring, rippling and stretching out until it wasn't a knife, but a katana with a wicked edge. The light caught the blade and it looked almost like a smile. The young man sighed. "Alright. Let's get this done then, Souske."_

 _Aizen doesn't get the chance to respond. The young man tapped his foot on the ground, and a blue glow spread out, symbols lighting up. Row after row of characters blinked into life, some Japanese, some English. They spread out faster than thought, climbed up the walls and ceiling until they covered everything._

 _"You always surprise me, Masa," Aizen said, no fear or alarm in his voice. "I'm sorry it came to this."_

 _Masae studied Aizen. "You know what? I actually believe you."_

 _It changed nothing. Aizen finally deemed Masae too much of a threat to keep around._

 _The young man smiled, but his eyes were cold. He wasn't going to stand around, waiting to die. Sparks gathered on the tip of his fingers, a kido spell waiting for the right words. "Shall we?"_

 _Aizen smiled back. "Of course. After you, Masae."_

* * *

Of course, that was only the ending. The beginning was a little different.

* * *

"Gonna kill 'em." Masae said conversationally. It didn't matter the volume he spoke at, in the long run. No one could hear him over the screaming of the three-way fight his roommates were having.

Nobility his Rukongai ass. The only difference between the Kuchiki and the Shiba and the Shihonin in the room was the registers of their voices. Why did Masae have to get stuck with the political kids and their many, many pride issues?

As if blood meant anything in the long run.

Masae didn't say that out loud though. He didn't want to bring attention to himself in the middle of this, not because he was afraid of these spoiled brats, but because he didn't want them to start-up on their 'Rukongai trash' shit again. It was annoying. Also, he'd probably be expelled this time, if he beat them into the ground again.

Nobles were such _babies_.

"That seems a little harsh, Masae-san." Aizen Sousuke, his other roommate, of course, said with a strained smile.

Masae far preferred his presence to the rest of the kids, even if he turned into a supervillain in the future.

"I have a kido test in two hours," Masae said. It was so early in the morning, the sun was still just a memory. The idiots fought for hours.

Seriously. Masae was going to kill them. No court on earth - or soul society - would convict him.

If Masae knew that being a soul reaper would involve hanging out with moody teenagers, he'd wouldn't have clawed his way out of the rukongai.

(That's a lie. Masae still dreamed about blood under his tongue, under his nails. About the fear that came with trying to survive just the slightest bit longer.

Out there, it was eat or be eaten,

Masae _ate_.)

He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that would stave off a headache. He needed to out of the room, before someone died. He scraped back his chair.

"Masae-san?" Aizen asked.

"I'm out." Masae hesitated. Sure, Aizen had the makings of a megalomaniac, but it seemed cruel to leave him here alone. "You can come with me."

Aizen blinked, then glanced out of the window at the dark sky. "The curfew..."

Masae rolled his eyes. "If we get caught, the teachers are just going to blame it on me anyway." Unlike nobles, the teachers loved Aizen.

The Kuchiki's voice hit a note that pierced Masae's ears. Aizen's normally gentle smile flickered.

The nobles liked him more than Masae, but that was like saying they liked him more than pond scum. They still treated him like trash. No way they were going to listen to Aizen.

Masae shrugged. "Or stay. I don't care. Either way, I'm not sticking around."

Aizen glanced at the nobles, then finally stood. "Of course, Masae-san."

* * *

Masae and Aizen walked in blessed silence, through the empty halls of the school. It was obscenely early - or super late, depending on how you wanted to look at it. Masae moved with confidence, even with only the moonlight streaming through the windows. It wasn't the first time he'd been out after curfew.

Masae watched Aizen out of the corner of his eye. It's been years since he came to terms with his reincarnation, how he lives in a fictional universe now. Masae knew who Aizen was. It was hard to see it, but... there were moments when Aizen tilted his head and looked at the people around him like he wanted to take them apart; like it'd be easy. It was easy to believe it then.

"This way." Masae pointed to an almost solid wall of leaves at the edge of one training ground.

Aizen narrowed his eyes at the wall.

Masae wondered if he knew how his mask slipped when he concentrated. His eyes go sharp enough to cut. Masae lets him work it out, hands behind his head.

"There's a barrier covering something. Something you made." Aizen glanced at Masae. "You are failing kido class."

Masae snorted. "It's got a shitty teacher." The man was so rigid Masae could use his personality as a ruler. Masae fell asleep in his class more often than not.

Kido was basically _magic,_ and the teacher made it sound boring.

Aizen looked at Masae like he wanted to tear his mind open and eat whatever was inside.

 _Creepy._

Masae would be worried about the thought of this future megalomaniac being in any way interested in him, but honestly? He's living on borrowed time already. Whatever happens, happens.

He didn't get this far by hesitating over his decisions.

Masae stepped forward and put his right hand on the hedge, felt the warm rush of a kido building up in his hands. His reiatsu wasn't anything to write home about, but his control was second to none. Masae traces a glowing symbol in the air above the hedge, a circle that spiraled inward.

There's a reason that kido spells have words. They shape reiatsu. Say a word and your brain works to figure it out, responds to it. Reiatsu was the same way. The reason wordless kido was hard - it was like trying to remember a path that only existed in your mind. It was also the reason that kido incantations didn't make sense.

The words didn't have to _make sense_ _._ They only had to feel right.

"Safety clawed from their grasp," He murmurs. Power flows down his arm, and the glowing spiral begins to spin. "One has bled on this hallowed ground. One has built a tower of black rock. One has stepped into the path of thorns. Secret Art: Sanctuary." Masae pulled back, and the spiral followed his hand through the air, unwinding like a ribbon. A part of the greenery peeled back with it, leaving a doorway.

"I see why Ishida-sensei can never find you when you skip class," Aizen said. His normal smile is back in place, but the calculation in his eyes wasn't concealed. "This is where you've hidden, then?"

Masae shrugged. "One of the places."

Aizen blinked. "There are more?"

"Of course. Only an idiot has one back up plan." Masae pointedly doesn't mention where the rest of them are. "Besides, it's useful."

"I can imagine." He rubbed his chin. "Once you know where to look, though it seems fairly noticeable. How do the matrixes work?

Obviously. This particular sanctuary was one of the first Masae ever designed, and therefore the one with the most flaws. Masae designed it because he always wanted something like it in Rukongai. People can't hurt you if they can't catch you, after all.

He learned that pretty damn early.

"Strength doesn't matter if no one knows it's there. You coming in or what?" Masae stepped through the door. There was a couple of chairs surrounding a small, rough table that Masae built out of so busted up targets the teachers threw away.

Aizen adjusted his glasses. "Of course."

* * *

Just like that, they're friends - or at least _friendlier_. It was probably a mistake to get Aizen interested in him. Dude was king relentless about acquiring knowledge.

To put it another way, Aizen Sousuke was a _huge_ nerd.

Aizen kept asking Masae questions about Kido. Politely, of course. His well-mannered cover would never be as crude as to pester someone, no matter how much he wanted to. Masae dealt with it, as he dealt with everything.

Just roll with it.

Impulse decision or not, it was already past. No point in having regrets now.

No matter what Aizen became in the future, it wasn't Masae's problem. If Aizen became a villain, good for him. So long as he left Masae alone, Masae would leave him alone.

Dying cleared up your priorities real damn quick.

(What they don't tell you when you get to the academy is that there's more to the afterlife than just Soul Society and the Rukongai. The afterlife is _enormous_ _,_ made to hold the souls of everything that ever died. Not everyone is lucky enough to born inside the few civilized portions.

You can walk right out of Soul Society and keep walking for the rest of your afterlife, but there wasn't anything out there but endless forests and a lawless wasteland. Hollows roamed. People fought over scraps Seireitei citizens wouldn't feed to a dog. Even the people from Zaraki had it better.

Everything out there was hungry. Everything out there was food. There were no comrades, no room for loneliness, no reason to trust another person. There was nothing but the ache of bloodied feet and the hollowed out cavern in Masae's stomach. Desperation devoured morals faster than anything else.

Kill or be killed.

Eat or be eaten.

If you were empty long enough, you'd sink very, very low to be filled.)

It was the morning of a rare day off. Aizen and Masae were in the sanctuary again, avoiding the rest of the students.

"You're not aiming for the Kido Corps, Masae-san?" Aizen asked.

Masae shrugged without looking up from his newest design. A specific type of barrier, attached to a tag. "Nah. Not really my thing. Too rigid." He preferred the building of the spell to the casting of it.

"Which squad are you considering then?"

Masae hummed. He didn't much care, honestly. It's not like he'd stay in soul society for the rest of his existence. Maybe take a few hundred years, wait for the transient world to advance far enough, then fuck off there. Fake his death or something, or maybe just desert.

God, Masae missed the internet.

Things moved so slowly in the seireitei. It made Masae restless; he's walked into the Rukongai nearly fifty years ago, and the most innovation he's saw was a noodle vendor adding a new dish.

It's enough to bore Masae to death. Again.

"Is there a research division?" Masae asked.

There's the sound of a page turning. "Not that I'm aware of."

Tch. Figures he got here before Urahara started up the twelfth.

"Maybe I'll make one." Probably not. Being a captain sounded like a lot of work. He pushed over his latest sketch. "Here, tell me if the matrices look wonky."

Aizen made a noise of interest and set down his book. "A double barrier? Interesting. But if you move this amount of energy in, won't it explode?"

"No, see the energy curves out like this -"

All other lines of conversation get dropped in favor of rampant nerdery.

* * *

Masae contemplated murder yet again, staring up at the ceiling. The pillow clamped around his head did nothing to stop the muffled sound of screaming. His noble dorm mates were at each other's throats. Shiba started it this time, poking fun at the Kuchiki's grandfather.

Masae cannot even comprehend the amount of pride these assholes had in simply being born; In being _lucky_ enough have more than their peers.

Masae had confidence in himself, and the work of his own two hands. It was everything else that he wasn't sure of.

He absolutely would not make four more years of this. Graduating early was out of the question. If he was some sort of genius, the Gotei would pay him more attention than he was comfortable with. Either he had to move or had to find a way to produce some sort of silencing kido.

(Except the last fifteen burst under the sheer amount of noise in the room. They were very, very loud.

Murder was looking better and better all the time.)

He'd already tried to switch rooms, but no one was stupid enough to take it. He'd even gone to the dorm heads, but who would take some rukongai trash's complaints about two of the great noble houses? All the normal rooms were full, except for the few allocated to married couples who attended together -

Masae froze.

There was a plan falling into place. It was a stupid plan. An insane plan.

He might get killed just for asking.

He pulled Aizen aside the next day. "You have to marry me."

The look of blank surprise on Aizen's face was hilarious enough that Masae's possible gruesome death was already worth it.

He adjusted his glasses. "I... beg your pardon, Masae-san?"

"I've run through all the possibilities. I've tried _everything_. I can't take being stuck with those idiots for the next four years!" Masae hissed under his breath.

Aizen glanced over his shoulder. "You really shouldn't insult our classmates like that, Masae-san."

Masae ignored that statement like the garbage it was. Like he hadn't seen Aizen looking at their roommates when condescending to him with eyes like the edge of a blade.

Masae gestured for Aizen to come closer and he leans in obligingly. "Listen. Married students get a room to themselves. To share. Just. Them."

Aizen blinked. "Why me?"

Masae rolled his eyes. "Who else would I ask?"

"I know that Ashido-san has been chasing after you for some time. Perhaps she'd be willing?"

"Who's Ashido?" Masae casts his mind back, trying to recall anyone named Ashido in any of his classes. There's a vague impression of a long, black ponytail and a shy smile. "Whatever, I don't want a real husband. I already know you, you already know me. I'm neat-ish, I won't bring anyone back to the dorm, I don't hog the bathroom in the morning, and most importantly, I don't go into screaming fits at four in the morning when _some_ people have important tests!"

Aizen blinked. "...I'm sensing a grudge."

Masae ran a hand through his hair. Normally he slept like the dead, but it was hard to go from one of the worst places in the Rukongai to sharing a room with five other boys. The slightest twitch would wake Masae up. He couldn't leave most of the time either, because all of his roommates (Aizen excepted) would jump at the chance to report him for being out after curfew.

"Look," Masae said. "Think about it. Two people to a room is better than four. You can do whatever it is you do when you sneak out at night and I'll mind my business."

Aizen's smile stayed the same, but his eyes flickered to Masae.

Masae shrugged. Aizen needed to step up his game if he didn't' want Masae to notice him. "I'll give you some time to think about it. Tell me what you decide at the end of the day. "

"Or?" Aizen asked.

Masae raised an eyebrow. "Or I'll see if someone else with a bad roommate wants an out? I'm not gonna tell the teachers about you breaking curfew." He paused. "Yet, anyway. I'll save for if I need something."

Aizen smiled again, a tiny polite thing that didn't reach his eyes. "I enjoy your bluntness, Masae-san."

Masae rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm a fucking delight." He glanced over his shoulder at the angle of the sun and nudged Aizen with his arm. "I've got class. Tell me later. I'll be at the training ground."

He left without looking back, Aizen's gaze on him the whole way.

* * *

After another pointless Kido class, Masae went back to his first sanctuary, ready to get some real work done.

Masae scowled down at the stupid paper. Trying to get inscribe a four-point structure on a curved surface was maddening. This was his fourth attempt and there was something off about the center, which was setting it at a slant.

The feel of a familiar reiatsu at the edge of his sanctuary, like a ripple in a still pond, alerted Masae a few seconds before the false wall went down. Masae only showed Aizen how to do it once, and here he was using the pass like it was second nature.

Kubo wasn't messing around when he made Aizen a genius.

"Hey." Masae turned his attention back to the pictograph. "Look this over for me? I can't figure out what I did to the matrices."

Aizen looked over Masae's shoulder. "...Looks like your math is off for this corner." He tapped the upper left.

Masae groaned and put his head in his hands. "I knew it. Man, screw four-dimensional math."

Aizen snorted.

Pushing the paper and the math problem to the opposite side of the table, Masae looked up at Aizen. "So, you got an answer for me?"

Aizen was quiet for a long moment. His eyes were sharp as shattered glass and twice as cold, something his glasses did nothing to hide.

Well, if Aizen was willing to drop the pretense, Masae should oblige him. He met Aizen's eyes without flinching. Masae was familiar with fear. The taste of it, sour in the back of his throat.

Fear wasn't a good enough reason to bend.

Aizen tilted his head. "You were serious."

"Obviously."

"Surely there are easier ways to be moved to a new room? You're talented enough in kido alone to simply move up a class."

Masae shrugged. "To get up, I'd have to kick someone down. Plus I don't want to get into the first class."

"You're not afraid about being targeted." Aizen, tone very sure.

Masae snorted. "Not really." More like Masae didn't want to deal with hiding a body when the nobles inevitably tried something. "It's just annoying to deal with. too much attention."

Probably the same reason that Aizen was holding back.

Masae let Aizen lean over his shoulder to look at his work. "Marriage would make certain things easier."

"Like dealing with your growing fan club?" Masae asked.

Aizen sighed. "That did cross my mind, yes."

Masae didn't blame him. He's seen what those girls are capable of, and frankly, he doesn't understand. How do they fall in love with someone they know nothing about?

"We have a deal, then?" Masae offered Aizen his hand.

Aizen took it. The light glinted off his glasses. "We have a deal."

They shook on it. It felt like Masae was selling his soul to the devil.

Eh. He'd done worse things for dumber reasons.

* * *

Marriage in soul society was blessedly simple compared to the transient world. Most marriages came from love (or obligation, if you were a noble) because children were difficult to conceive at the best of times.

Therefore there was almost none of the prejudice against same-sex marriage.

(Unless you were a Noble, but Nobles didn't like much of anything outside of bragging about bloodlines and being better than everyone who can't recite their ancestors from the birth of soul society.

Because nobles are the _worst_.)

Aizen glanced at the paperwork. Masae already filled out all the necessary details. "You'll be taking on my last name?"

Masae shrugged. "I don't have one."

Aizen smiled. "You can't continue to call me Aizen if you too are Aizen."

Point. "Sousuke, then."

He blinked at Masae. What, like Masae, the former American, was going to blush at using someone's first name? "You can call me Masa. All my friends do."

Or they would if you had any.

"Hmm. Reasonable." Aizen adjusted his glasses.

Aizen signed the bottom, and just like that, Masae had a husband. Masae looked at the black ink. His chicken scratch next to Aizen's neat calligraphy, spelling out the agreement to love and support each other in triplicate.

Weird.

Masae took the papers and shuffled them into order, checking them over one last time. Everything looked in order. "Nice. I'll have these filled by the end of the day, and find out where our new room is. Meet you back at the dorm?"

Aizen stood up. "Alright. I need to pack anyway."

Masae was already packed up. In the rukongai, it was stupid to keep more than he could carry. He waved Aizen off and went off to find a teacher.

The look on Ishida-sensei's face when she learned that model student Aizen married Masae was just as amazing as he thought it'd be.

* * *

The room was half the size of the one they shared with the nobles, but it seemed bigger. An effect of not cramming six strong personalities into one room, probably.

Masae dropped his small bag on the dark wood table along the far side of the wall. "There's only one futon." He noted.

"These are rooms for married students," Aizen said.

Masae tilted his head. "You wanna share, or you wanna sleep on the floor?"

"Not offering to sleep on the floor yourself?" Aizen sounded amused.

Masae snorted. "I didn't come all the way from the worst part of the rukongai to sleep in the dirt again. I ain't shy and I don't gotta problem sleeping in the same bed. If you do, you can sleep on the floor or buy a new futon."

Wasn't like Masae had any way of making money, besides mugging someone. All his allowance got spent on materials and food.

"I don't have a problem with it, Masa-san."

Again with the san. Masae could say many, many things about Aizen, but he was very dedicated to his role.

Masae yawned and stretched. "Alright. I'm gonna bathe. You can ... settle in or whatever."

It was nice to have a single bathroom, even a cramped, musty one. No stupid Kuchiki hammering on the door, or Shiba taking all the hot water.

Bliss.

Masae dried his hair after the shower and stepped out into the main room. It was dark now, but Aizen put on a few candles to read. It'd be amazing if Aizen wouldn't need real glasses if he kept reading like that. Masae should build him some sort of light. Masae dropped down beside him and pulled out his notes from the bag lying by the table. He had an idea of where he could start.

They didn't speak for hours and the quiet was companionable, if only because Masae didn't get awkward.

Masae finally stretched when the numbers on the page started swimming. "Alright, that's as much as I'm going to get done tonight. I'm going to bed. Night, Sousuke."

Aizen blinked and looked up from his scroll with a gentle smile on his face. "Goodnight, Masa-san."

Masae crawled into bed with another yawn. Holding up his hand and eyed it, comparing it to Aizen's. A little smaller, but not by much.

He turned over and closed his eyes. His project was almost finished.

Can't get married without a ring, after all.

The next week saw information about Aizen and Masae's marriage spreading out through the academy.

Masae underestimated just how popular Aizen was among all the years, not just the second. Masae's fear was pretty much busted, though, and that let him walk through the hallways without cowering under the fan club's evil eye. It was kind of hilarious how intimidating they weren't.

Masae'd eaten scarier people for breakfast.

Aizen, of course, acted like nothing was happening at all. He played the same kind student he always had. The only thing that changed was his face gained a touch of warmth when he spoke to Masae.

Masae had to admire that kind of skill in acting. It was his idea in the first place, so he played along; letting Aizen hold his hand, not laughing at the way he so obviously played the fan club into standing down, ignoring the way Aizen's earnest looks made his skin crawl.

The fan club tearfully backed off, unwilling to get in the way of "Aizen-sama's pure love". His popularity among women skyrocketed for his faithfulness and attentiveness. Many, many boyfriends got to Aizen and found wanting.

Masae found everything hilarious when he bothered to think about it at all. He was busy. He had no time to spend on Aizen's life.

He finished his project at the end of the month and waited for Aizen to get home. The room came with a small kitchen, so Masae rolled up his sleeves and went to work. It's been a long time since he'd had a real meal or a place to cook.

The door creaked open.

"Welcome back," Masae said, still focused on the eggs. "Dinner's ready."

Aizen doesn't reply. Masae looked up, found Aizen standing in the doorway of the room. The light of the hallway cast his face in shadow; Masae couldn't see his expression.

Masae put down the pan. "Sousuke?"

Another long moment passed before Aizen entered the room fully. "Pardon me, Masa-san. I was just startled. I didn't know you could cook."

Masae shook his head internally. He really didn't want to deal with Aizen's... whatever that was. "Yeah. I don't bother normally. I finished my project today though, so I thought I might as well celebrate."

Aizen sat down at the table. "Oh?"

Masae gathered up the food and sat at the table on the opposite side. Neither of them spoke while Masae laid out the food. He looked up and found Aizen watching him with a smile on his face and eyes like knives.

Masae doesn't ask. Aizen's not his problem.

(Thank god for that.)

"Thank you for the food," Aizen said. He ate the same way he did everything, neat and elegant. He took the first bite and smiled. "This is quite good. You never stop surprising me, Masa-san. I know we don't have much in the pantry. How did you find what you needed to make something edible?"

Masae didn't bother with manners, because he was starving. "You learn to use what you got real fast in Zaraki."

Or you die.

Aizen paused, then set his chopsticks down by his side. "Pardon me, Masa-san, but I'm curious. You don't seem to hide the fact that you came from the Rukongai, not like many others. Do you not feel any sort of shame about your origins?"

Shame?

"Why would I be ashamed of surviving?" Masae asked.

Aizen blinked. "Pardon?"

"If you dumped ninety-nine percent of these shinigami into Zaraki, they'd be dead by the end of the day." It was a fact. They were soft, almost unbearably so. If Masae wanted to he could tear this whole school to the ground in a matter of hours. Masae shrugged, propped his head upon his hands. "I survived. Most people don't."

Aizen's eyes were in shadow again. "A badge of honor?"

Masae shrugged again. It was a crucible; it forged him from his past life, burned his regrets and fears away. He killed and he ate and he lived, and it was the best thing that happened to him after death.

He'd never go back, but he was grateful for it.

(Masae knew there was something in the back of his mind that shattered. It glittered in the light, beautiful as it was sharp. He knew hunger; his stomach devouring him from the inside out.

Everything in the afterlife was the same, made of the same stuff. Buildings, food, plants, hollows.

People.

Masae ate.)

Nearly dying every day for fifty years will put things in perspective. Masae begins eating again, ignoring the phantom taste of blood on his tongue, the crack of bone under his teeth.

He learned a lot about himself, about what he was going to do with his borrowed time.

That was: whatever the hell he wanted.

The dinner passes without much fanfare. Aizen seemed more interested in the food than in Masae.

"You mentioned you finished a new project?" Aizen asked after they cleaned up. He insisted on doing the dishes because Masae cooked. Masae wasn't about to argue with him, no matter what his motive for it.

Masae snapped. "Right. Almost forgot." He brought out a plain black box out of his pocket, small enough to fit in his palm. He tossed the box to Aizen. "That's for you."

Aizen caught it. He stopped dead and stared. "Is this...?" He glanced up, his smile nowhere be seen. "What is this?"

"I tried making the sanctuary kido into a smaller, more personalized one. It was a bitch and a half to get it curved on something that tiny, but -"

"Not the kido, Masae. The ring."

Masae blinked. "Do married people in Soul Society not have wedding rings?"

Aizen's eyes flickered from box to Masae and back again. "We do. This is just a marriage of convenience. I do not need a ring."

"Yeah, I figured." Masae shrugged. "It's just for show. Also, I wanted you to test the power of the notice me not when you're out doing whatever it is that you do all night."

Aizen glanced up sharply. "I do not understand you, Masa-san."

Masae rolled his eyes. "Don't make it a big thing, Sousuke. I do stuff because I want to. If you don't want it, I'll just sell it." Aizen was the future villain of a manga, but he really was way too dramatic. Not everything was as complicated as it seemed.

When you married someone, real or not, you gave them a ring. That's just how it was.

Aizen pulled the box back out of Masae's reach. "It's rude to take gifts away, Masa-san."

Masae rolled his eyes again.

Aizen took the ring out of the box. It was a simple gold band, understated and tasteful. He slid it on, and Masae noticed it fit perfectly and smiled, pleased with himself. He was damn good.

Aizen held up his hand, studying the barely visible transcription on the gold band. "I see. It can turn off and on."

Masae felt Aizen trail a fine thread of reiatsu through the ring and blinked. Aizen's face was suddenly blurry. It was like trying to catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, only to turn and find nothing.

"Nice." Masae beckoned to Aizen. "Let me get a look at it in use."

Aizen obliged. Masae took his hand and turned it over and over, scrutinizing the ring, making sure that the matrices were stable enough. He was confident that the ring wouldn't blow up anytime soon, but you couldn't be sure. Writing Kido or Bakudo down was tricky.

"Looks good. If you find something wrong, or it blows up, tell me." Masae let go of Aizen's hand and stretched - he was tired, the good kind that came from completing something difficult.

Aizen hummed. "Rings come in pairs, Masa-san. Where is yours?"

Masae pulled a chain from around his neck. A gold ring glinted in the light. "I don't like wearing stuff on my hands."

"I see." Aizen adjusted his glasses, and his ring shone in the light. "Shall we retire, then? We both have advanced Zanjutsu in the morning."

Masae groaned. "God, don't remind me."

* * *

Things continued the same vein until Masae and Aizen's marriage was old news. Nearly three years passed and the fan club had given up most of the hope of Aizen dumping Masae.

Masae himself barely knew more about Aizen than when they first got married. Aizen never drops his act for more than a moment, and obviously didn't really trust Masae.

Fair.

Masae didn't trust him either.

(Aizen came back late three days out of seven, smelling like rust and the sour note of human fear.

He's always smiling.

Masae never says anything; he only grumbles about his husband's cold feet when he climbs into bed. Makes a note about finding another futon.

They never do.)

Some of Aizen's popularity rubbed off on Masae - he got discounts at the places he shopped mostly. Everyone liked Aizen, from the most uppity noble to the most crotchety teacher.

People could be pretty blind. Even not knowing what Masae knows, he wouldn't have liked him. She was a suspicious bitch and didn't like nice people.

Masae worked on his projects and kept his head down.

In their fourth year, empty Asauchi get handed out. . Masae eyed his with distaste.

"Fucking Zanjutsu," Masae grumbled under his breath.

Aizen took his hand without looking away from the teacher. "Try not to look so disgusted, Masa. Shinigami use Zanpakuto."

There's a part of Masae that never forgot the sound a hollow's mask made, cracking under his bare hands. That part looked at zanpakuto for what they were: A crutch.

Break the zanpakuto and shinigami were less than useless. Sending anyone below lieutenant to Zaraki was a death sentence, and Masae saw more than one squad torn apart by the monsters that lived there - by human and hollow. Only an idiot relied on something that could be taken away.

Masae blew out a breath. "Do I gotta?"

"I'm afraid so."

Ugh.

* * *

Masae's Zanpakuto showed up eventually, even without doing all the boring exercises taught in class. It started with someone whispering in his ear after class.

 _Oh, how I hunger._

Masase paused. The voice is low, genderless. There's intent to it, something that scrapped across his nerves.

"Did you hear that?" Masae asked Aizen.

He shook his head. "Hear what?"

 _Clean water, sweet flower._ _How well he lies._ A soft chuckle that raised the hair on Masae's arms. _Perhaps we shall devour him. See how well he hides when being taken to pieces._

"...Never mind." Masae sighed.

Of course. His life wasn't complicated enough.

I can hear you, my heart. The voice sounded amused.

Tch. Masae was perfectly willing to share all the inconvenience it caused him. It continued to speak to him over the next few weeks, breaking in at random moments.

Aizen noticed, of course.

"Your Zanpakuto is speaking to you." He said over dinner one night.

Masae scowls at the sword leaning against the wall at the other end of the room. He'd taken to 'forgetting' it, hoping that would stop the voice. No such luck. It just amused the spirit, more than anything.

"Wish I could get it to shut up," Masae grumbled. It'd be pointless to lie now.

Aizen stared at him, getting that look like he wanted to peel open Masae's brain and crawl inside looking for answers. "You're not pleased about it."

Masae snorted. No shit.

"With the way you're progressing, you'll have shikai by the end of the year. It would be by the end of the week if you actually attempted to communicate." Aizen glanced at his own sword, eyes unreadable. "Many would like to be in your place."

He really never stopped acting, did he? Was Aizen implying that he didn't hear the voice of his sword yet?

As if Masae didn't see the way his hands tightened on the blade the moment Aizen put his hands on it. He probably already had Bankai, because he was ridiculous.

"Many would be stupid. All that thing wants to do is ask questions and eat."

"Eat?"

Masae rolled his eyes. "I don't know either. All it keeps saying is I hunger. Like... you're a sword. You don't get hungry."

 _You do know, my wielder. You dream about the bones in your teeth, the iron of blood and how sweet it tasted._

Masae doesn't even flinch at this point.

 _Aizen is not for eating_. Masae thought back at the spirit.

 _You do not care for this illusion. There would be no grief if you destroyed him._

Masae and Aizen were four years into the marriage, but Masae still knew almost nothing about him. He performed and lied almost compulsively, and that was fine by Masae.

Masae knew Aizen was a terrible person. There were times he came back in the late hours of the night, smelling like old blood and pain, with a contemplative smile on his face, a light in his eyes.

Masae knew. He just didn't _care_.

He wasn't interested. Even back in his first life, there was always that sense of detachment. It let him complete his high-stress job without complications, but it always left people flinching away from him. They always asked the same question: Don't you care about my problem?

No, he didn't. Who had that much time?

 _It'd be a pain to cover up, and frankly not killing him is so much easier than killing him would be._

A pause, and a flash of surprise. Then that laughter again. _Oh, my heart who is so very heartless. We are a well-made match, you and I._

Tch.

"Masa?"

Masae looked up. Aizen was watching him again, his lips quirked in a small smile. It almost reached his eyes this time. Yeah, Masae'd have no problem killing him if they met out in Zaraki.

 _Poor Sousuke_ _._ His spirit purred. _Wouldn't he be heartbroken to hear you thinking about him like that?_

"Hey Sousuke, you know I'd kill you without hesitation, right?" Masae asked. "If you ever turned against me or whatever."

Aizen smile doesn't so much as rock. If anything it gained another touch of sincerity. "Of course, Masa. I'd expect nothing less. Shall we go over the homework together after dinner?"

 _There you go._

Masae's sword chuckled again, pleased.

"Sure. I swear to god Ishida-sensei hates my guts."

Life continued on.

* * *

Masae and Aizen graduated without making a ripple. Neither of them were the type to aim for the top of the class, Aizen trying to lay low and Masae uninterested.

Masae waited for Aizen to finish saying goodbye to all of his 'friends' and admirers. The fan club girls in younger years were inconsolable. Masae'd already been corned by three separate people who told him to take care of Aizen in the ranks.

 _Our Sousuke does not need the help._

 _No kidding._

After Aizen ditched the dead weight, Masae fell into step at his side. He handed Aizen a set of papers. "Divorce forms." He said.

Aizen blinked and took the papers. "...Why are we getting divorced?"

Masae shrugged. "We only got married to get that room in the first place. We're not in the academy anymore, therefore, we don't have to worry about it."

They walk in silence for a while.

Finally, Aizen stopped. "I do not agree." He said.

Masae blinked and turned to face him, hands behind his head. "Don't agree with what?"

"Agree with a divorce."

The spirit started laughing in the back of his head. Masae narrowed his eyes at Aizen. "Explain."

Aizen remained unruffled. "Having a spouse has brought me more benefits than I previously thought. It is a convenient cover. People so rarely question me when I just use you as an alibi."

"So that's why I keep getting strangers coming up to talk to me about your plans." Masae mused. "I thought that was weird."

"Yet you never gave me away." Aizen's amusement was sharper this time. Meaner. More honest. "Or asked why."

Masae shrugged. "It's not really any of my business. Find someone else to play husband or wife."

"Why should I go through all that trouble when I have a perfectly viable candidate right here?"

Turning Masae's words against him. "I'm not seeing what's in it for me."

"I'm hurt, Masae. You don't love me anymore?" Aizen did a very good impression of a hurt young man. "Just what will the gotei think about the man who broke my heart? What will I do with these designs you left in my care? I certainly can't keep them without feeling the heartbreak. I'd have to get rid of them."

Masae blinked. _Is he trying to blackmail me with my own designs?_

 _So it seems._

Masae looked up at the sky. He didn't really need the designs, but he also didn't want to go into the kido corps. If Aizen released them, he'd have no choice.

Of course, Masae didn't have to stay in the Gotei or the spirit world at all. There were thousands of places where the barriers between worlds were more fragile than an eggshell. He knew how to disappear so thoroughly no one would be able to find him. Not even Aizen.

That was the last resort. Masae still had a few things he wanted to squeeze out of the gotei before he left for good.

 _He'll never let you go, my heart. We both know there is no one out there quite so suited to him as you. Or anyone quite so suited to you as him._

 _I don't love him though._

 _It's not about love. You are two of kind, my heart, and that is a very rare thing._

Masae sighed inwardly. It was irritating when his sword was right. _It won't last._

It laughed. _Of course not. Does anything?_

True enough.

Masae looked back down and crossed his arms. "You get to find the house this time."

Aizen smiled, and it almost looked real. He folded up the papers and tucked them in his sleeve, then he reached out and laced your fingers together. "Of course, of course. What division are you signing on to?"

Masae let Aizen tug him closer. "The fourth."

"Oh? Why the fourth?"

"I wanted to learn about kido and biology." It was interesting. Everything in the afterlife was reishi, from the buildings to the body. Why did healing kido mend the body, but not work on a broken building? What was the _difference_?

Masae itched to find out.

"Where'd you apply to?" He asked.

Aizen tilted his head, and the light caught on his glasses. His smile was kind. "How fortunate. We work closely together then. I took a twelfth seat position in Fifth. I believe I am looking forward to it."

* * *

 ***haiku is by** **Sugita Hisajo**

 **this is going to be a short one, only about two or three chapters (hopefully), and will not get into bleach cannon, except maybe the turn back the pendulum arc. I remember almost nothing about cannon after Aizen was defeated because he was my favorite character and I didn't see how they were going to top him as a villain. What a magnificent bastard (:**

 **chapters will only be coming out once a month at most, but they're all going to be pretty damn long**


	2. Chapter 2

**warning: sort of cannibalism, mentions of actual cannibalism, and scary, scary healers.**

* * *

 _Gin stared down at the corpse of Aizen's husband. Masae's brown eyes were open and empty; the calculation gone from them. It looked wrong, like seeing the night sky without stars. It looked like an animal ripped into his chest, and his clothes were in tatters. Gin crouched by Masae's body. Hundreds of claw-like marks in Masae's skin bleed sluggishly. The hilt of Masae's sword was clenched in his fist in a death grip. The blade was shattered, gone into a thousand fragments._

 _Masae's death was recent._

 _Recent and_ painful _._

 _The night was cold and dark, moonless and starless. Masae's blood dripped into the dirt. His mouth was pulled up into a slight smile, just like it always was. Like Masae was in on a joke, no one else knew. Dried blood clung to that smile._

 _Gin stared at it. "Ya did it."_

 _The man's smile was perfectly pleasant. He didn't have a scratch on him. It might be an illusion. It might just be Masae wasn't as strong as he seemed._

 _Or even Masae, strong as he was, couldn't scratch Aizen._

 _"Of course," Aizen said. "Masa was always going to be a loose end. Now that things are in motion, it was time for him to go. He outlived his usefulness."_

 _Aizen always spoke so pleasantly. Masae, if he weren't a corpse, would laugh, sling his arm around Aizen's neck, and call Aizen a cryptic bastard. It was embarrassing how fond Masae was of Aizen._

 _Masae wouldn't laugh at anyone anymore._

 _"Ya gonna disappear him? Or cut him up for study?"_

 _"No need for that. Masa was unique, but not one of a kind. I've already learned everything I needed from him. He'll be found in the morning by a passing patrol. Clawed up, clearly passing after a fight against a strong hollow. It will be very, very tragic."_

 _Gin stares into Masae's open eyes, and his unfaltering smile was reflected. "And ya are just heartbroken, Aizen-sama."_

 _Heartbroken people kept to themselves. Nobody bothered them when they were distracted, or tried to invite them out drinking, or attempted to play mind-games. Even Captain Hirako would lay off — for a while, anyway._

 _Hirako was fond of Masae._

 _"Quite. Take care of it, would you?"_

 _Gin's smiled wider, and he looked up for the first time. "O'course, Aizen-sama. Ya can count on me."_

 _Aizen patted Gin's shoulder. His eyes are opaque as the surface of a frozen pond. "I know, Gin. You are the most useful person I know."_

 _The unspoken words hung over Masae's corpse like a shroud._

Keep being useful, or end up like this.

 _Gin's face doesn't change._

 _Aizen folded his hands in his sleeves and melted away into the dark. Maybe he was going back to his empty home._

 _Gin looked at Masae, and his smile dropped. He reached out, his hand hovering over Masae's face. He hesitated, then gently closed Masae's staring eyes. Masae's skin was still warm._

 _"I told ya, ya should've gotten out, Masa," He said quietly. "Ya weren't bad for a monster."_

 _That tiny smile remained on Masae's face._

 _Masae was strong, so it'd be hours, maybe days before his body started to dissolve into reishi. Gin sighed and heaved Masae's body over his shoulder. Thankfully, Gin hit a growth spurt three years ago. Masae was short but dense with muscle. Warmth spread over Gin's shoulder, where Masae's blood started to seep in._

 _He'd have to burn this uniform._

 _Gin didn't want anything with Masae's blood on it._

 _It didn't seem like the right way to remember the man._

 _When Gin killed Aizen, he'd stab him a couple of extra times for Masae. It was the least he could do._

* * *

Aizen bought a small, traditional house with three rooms and a tiny yard in the back. Instead of each getting a separate bedroom as Masae expected, they continue to share the same. It wasn't like Masa was complaining because at least it was warm, but he expected more distance. They weren't in the academy anymore. Aizen didn't have to go far to hide, simply because no one was looking. He was just one seated officer, among many.

Masae got into the Fourth Division, no questions asked. He didn't have a seat, but he wasn't _trying_ for a seat in the first place. Masae didn't want the responsibility or the attention, unlike Aizen. Masae spent most of the time alone, cleaning. So long as Masae practiced the healing Kido and kept his head down, his squadmates ignored him. Masae was ignored so much; he almost thought he left his notice-me-not kido on. It was like putting on the fourth division sign rendered Masae invisible to the general populace.

The Fourth was overworked and harried. None of the other squads respected them, the work itself was unpleasant, and the pay wasn't that great.

On the upside, t was the _perfect_ cover for exploring the sewers. By the time three weeks had passed, Masae knew ten ways out of the Seireitei without _once_ going to the surface. Between that and unrestricted access to the Fourth's kido research, Masae was more and more pleased with his choice every day.

Aizen took to the fifth like he did everything: Perfectly. It was barely a day, and already, the Aizen-sama fan club was gaining new members, supplemented by the members that graduated with them.

Masae still got dirty looks, when other shinigami noticed him at all. It was still incredibly funny.

Time passed.

Masae watched Aizen move around the main room in their house while Masae' was sitting at the tiny traditional table in the living room, head propped on the one hand. Aizen was putting things on shelves, the little knick-knacks that made the place looked lived in.

He did it every so often, a tiny reorganization of trinkets that didn't follow any logic Masae could see. Masae still didn't have much in the way of stuff that wasn't for his research — he didn't see the point — but Aizen got little gifts all the time. Masae recognized some of them, like the tiny cat carving from one of the cousins of the Shiba clan head.

Most of the trinkets were gifts from people in power.

Aizen was so fucking weird, Masae doubted he'd ever really understood his husband. There was always some new, horrible angle for Masae to consider.

Masae looked forward to it, honestly. It let Masae take part in his favorite game: Wondering what the hell his husband's deal was.

Aizen was the most exciting thing in Seireitei.

His thought process was a mystery. What did Aizen want? Why was he still here, with Masae? If he needed a spouse for cover, there were hundreds of people willing to take Masae's place, some of them even nobles or politically powerful — and yet, Aizen was _here_. Maybe Aizen found Masae as funny to watch as Masae found him.

Masae'd never know.

Aizen was a consummate liar, even in his body language. He pretended to care about his subordinates so well that _Masae_ almost believed him.

The fifth Division _loved_ Aizen.

They couldn't make the walk to their divisions in the morning without being greeted by at least four or five people, and Aizen always replied with his fake smile, as if he'd never come home splattered with blood and smelling like old pain.

Masae was a sociopathic asshole, but at least he was honest about it.

(Most of the time. Usually.)

Masae didn't get it. He liked Aizen an awful lot, but that was because Aizen was incredibly entertaining and smart, not because Masae trusted him. Nobody else seemed to notice Aizen's facade - except maybe Aizen's captain, who Masae had yet to meet.

People in the Seireitei didn't make any sense. How did they survive with such weak instincts?

It was like having your brain go around lying to you about someone's level of danger just because they were helpful to you sometimes.

Shinigami had the bizarre tendency to believe in things like laws and justice, and goodness. They thought evil existed. They cared about _fairness_.

Masae didn't understand it.

(The Gotei 13 was useful because it imposed peace on the afterlife. It was better than the endless forest and plains outside. It was strange because it wrote laws and called them unbreakable when the only law Masae knew was survival of the fittest.

How many years passed out in those plains, those forests? It was impossible to say. The only thing that changed out there was the endless cycle of day and night.

Masae would never, ever go back.

He was still glad not to be reborn into the Seireitei or even the Rukongai. Souls who reminded Masae of newborn kittens, wandering around half blind and half deaf. Even souls from the worst part of the Rukongai were _weak_.

They lacked killing instinct.)

"Which looks better here, Masa?" Aizen held up a pair of nearly identical scrolls with flying herons painted on them. He'd dropped the 'san' after their graduation.

Masae rolled his eyes. "Does it matter?"

Aizen didn't even look at him. "Of course. I'll be bringing a guest over for dinner tonight, and I want to give the right impression."

"Then put the most expensive one up," He stood up from the table and adjusted his uniform. "I have a night shift, so I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck with your politicking."

Aizen paused and put the scrolls down. "You had the night shift last week."

"Yeah, and the week before that, and the week before that. It turns out I get all the grunt work because I'm the only new kid."

The rumors about the fourth being unpopular weren't just rumors. It was like a ghost town inside the barracks — not that Masae spent much time there. The house Aizen bought was close to the third, so Masae and Aizen walked together on the days they had the same shifts, rare as they were. Aizen seemed to enjoy playing lovey-dovey partners because he always dropped Masae off at the gates of the Fourth with a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile before Aizen went on to the Fifth.

Masae's already been interrogated about his mysterious, kind, dedicated husband. People were always so offended when they found out — it was funny enough to make up for the annoying glares he kept getting when people noticed him at all.

Aizen sighed. "If you had a seated position, you would have your pick of the shifts. All you have to do is learn the name of your Zanpakuto."

Masae made a face. "Hard pass."

The voice laughed in the back of Masae's head. _You love me, my heart._

"You have so little ambition, Masa."

"Maybe you have too much, Sousuke."

A quiet moment passed where they studied each other, the low table a barrier between them. Cicadas called out in the summer heat. The sunset colored the cooling air red and purple.

Aizen smiled and looked back to the scrolls. The light caught his glasses, turning them opaque. "You'll be late for your shift, Masa."

He was such a creep.

The thought was fond, though. "Yeah. Leftovers are in the fridge. See you in the morning."

* * *

There's something meditative about cleaning. Masae loses himself in the motion of the broom, the wet slide of the mob across the floor. He liked the smell of a recently cleaned room. Removing the evidence of the past from the present and leaving the room a little more organized than he found.

Plus, people left janitors alone. No one looked twice at Masae when he had a mop in hand. It was a great way to get around without being found. It wasn't foolproof, though. Some people paid closer attention than others.

"Aizen-kun," A gentle voice broke through Masae's concentration. He blinked and looked over his shoulder at his captain.

Unohana had a gentle smile on her face. "I thought it was you. I could have sworn you were off duty today."

Masae bowed slightly. "Captain."

Unohana was almost as new to the fourth Division as Masae was. He heard from one of his coworkers that she used to be the captain of the eleventh, but moved to the fourth when the previous captain was — something. No one was sure. The higher-ups said he got promoted but promoted to what?

The eleventh division hated the fourth more than most. Unohana was probably why.

"I traded shifts."

"Whatever for? I know that overnights are unpopular."

"My husband is doing some political schmoozing thing at our house," Masae made a face. "I'd rather not be there. Making nice with the nobles is boring. Besides, I like cleaning."

"It is nice to have a problem that a little bit of effort will solve," Unohana agreed. "How have you been settling in? I heard that you were taking well to the last of the advanced healing kido classes."

Masae leaned on the mop and shrugged. "Well enough. It's not very complicated."

"I do not doubt that someone with your talent for kido would find it simple."

The sound of someone screaming passed through the halls with no way of telling how far away it was. Masae didn't flinch, because it was normal. The Fourth Division corridors contained more screaming and weeping that the rest of the Divisions combined. It was almost nostalgic - a little taste of Masae's roots.

Unohana didn't flinch either.

 _Hm_.

"Did you need something, captain?" Masae asked at last. Unohana only spoke to him once before back when he got accepted into the fourth. She seemed like a nice enough woman.

His sword laughed in the back of Masae's mind. _Look closer, my heart._

There was just something... familiar about her. Something about the way she moved, the way her hands settled at her side or folded in her sleeves. She'd be hard to kill. Not just because she was a captain, but because she was aware in a way few people in the Seireitei were.

Masae paused. He stood up straighter and looked at Unohana again.

...That was not the face of someone from the Seireitei.

Even more than her stance, there was something familiar about her in particular. Masae's early memories were faded, but he just managed to recall the vague suggestion of a woman with loose dark hair, a bloodied sword in one hand, the head of a challenger in the other. She wore a simple kimono with no captain's haori. Her smile was pale and sharp.

"Ah," Masae said.

His sword chuckled. _Indeed_.

"It's been a while, Kenpachi," Masae propped his chin on the mop and gave Unohana a lazy smile. One monster to another. "You look well. I didn't recognize you without the sword and the blood."

Unohana's smile fell. The whole weight of her attention settled on Masae, and it was heavy. She took two steps forward, closing the distance between them.

Masae had no idea how he missed the predator's grace to her movement before — just seeing what he wanted, probably.

Unohana is older than the entirety of Soul Society.

If he met Unohana before she was a captain… how _old_ was Masae? How long had he wandered those endless forests and plains before stumbling on the edges of the rukongai?

Intent filled the air like water, slowly rising, rising, rising over Masae's head until he was drowning.

Blood lust. The intent, not to kill - but to harm.

Screaming and something bigger and stronger that wanted to kill him. It was like coming home again.

"I did not recognize you at first, either," Unohana said. "You were little more than a beast the last time we met."

She was like Masae — someone who came from outside. She came from the endless plains, from where the whole world was a grindstone. Unohana was the honed edge of a blade. She smelled of blood, and it wasn't just from healing wounds. No amount of smiling could mask that.

Masae realized something else: Unohana recognized the edge in him as well.

She was an old monster, and he was in her territory.

"Are you going to attack me?" Masae asked, genuinely curious. His heart beat a tattoo inside his chest, and his hand sparked with Kido. The memory of her was blurry, but Masae didn't think they ever fought before.

He'd beaten worse odds.

Probably.

Just like that, the intent vanished. Unohana's gentle smile was back again. "You are one of my precious division members."

Masae got the feeling that it was the only thing holding her back.

"I do have to ask that you keep your hunting to the other divisions, Aizen-kun," Unohana said.

Masae blinked once. "Hunting?"

When in doubt, deny, deny, deny.

It did help that he had no idea what she was talking about.

Unohana smiled. "A beast is always a beast."

Unohana didn't seem fooled, but hey, that was fine with Masae. So long as it kept him alive, he was good with pretty much anything. Dignity is a losing man's game.

Masae should probably be afraid — well. He _absolutely_ should be afraid. How many had Unohana killed?

Her reiatsu smells like steel and blood, barely masked under the sting of something medical.

 _It's almost good enough to eat._ His sword purred. _Ah, I am so hungry, my heart._

Unohana places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I really do mean it, Aizen-kun. You're one of my precious division members. Please don't make me have to punish you."

He saw the same look her eyes, a knowledge of the way of the world worked, and humans place in it. He saw a deep and abiding hunger, a thirst for something that would never be filled. It was enough to drive a person mad. Impressive that she hadn't already snapped after so long starving.

Perhaps one day, Masae would help her out, and they'd have a private chat, Monster to Monster.

Masae tilted his head. "Sure thing, Captain."

The fourth was her territory in the first place. Masae never cared much for politeness, but she _was_ here first. So long as she didn't interfere with him, he was willing to abide by the rules she set down.

For now.

Masae was still far too interested in Sousuke to attack a captain and turn into a fugitive, no matter how much fun it sounded. Maybe when the marriage fell apart, he'd try his hand against Unohana.

Unohana smiled again, and it glinted like a drawn blade in the light. "Carry on then, Aizen-kun."

Masae saluted her back. "Captain."

* * *

The reason Unohana let Masae into the fourth despite knowing what he could do was desperation. The fourth was three times smaller than even the first, and they had twice the workload of every other division. To many injured, not enough time. The work was hard and underappreciated. The division earned its reputation of being an undesirable place with little in the way of promotion.

Time passed, and Masae grew very, very good at healing kido. He was talented with, hilariously, putting people back together.

When he wasn't healing, or at home, or in one of his sanctuaries, Masae wandered the halls of the forth for hours, thinking about his projects. He spent a lot of time cleaning - doing the stuff that no one else wants to, because of dignity or pride.

Masae grew used to it. What use did he have for dignity? And life would have settled like that, if not for the hunger.

It crashed through Masae like a tsunami. Hunger. Not the tame kind, the friendly type. This hunger was the starvation that tore into a person, cut through the stomach and the spine, that left him curled up in pain on the floor in a dark storeroom where no one would bother him.

Masae knew this hunger - he left it behind in the endless forests outside the Rukongai. Masae's sword whispered, raspy as snakeskin across the back of a hand.

He ate as much as he could, even when the food turned to ash in his mouth. Masae cooked feasts, each more elaborate and filling that the last, and devoured everything until not even scraps were left.

It didn't help.

Masae lost weight faster than he could gain it. His wrists thinned, and his mind slowed. The whispering voice grew louder with each pound dropped. Masae needed something — something regular food lacked.

He couldn't figure out what.

Aizen watched him waste away across the table, but kept his silence. He never asked. He did not ask very loudly.

Always, the sword spoke to Masae: my heart, my heart, my heart.

Masae ignored it for as long as he could.

Everything breaks.

* * *

One shift, Masae caught the scent of something mouth-watering. It seized control of his legs before he had a chance to think.

The voice cut off mid-sentence inside his head and went quiet in a way that made Masae think of a tiger spotting its prey.

Masae followed the scent on instinct alone, down the pale yellow halls, down to the patient recovery wards. He passed other members of the fourth, but not one of them looked at him twice, let alone stopped him. He followed the scent to a particular room, one used for patients who might not make it.

Masae's stomach felt concave.

He quietly opened the door.

Inside the room, on the bed, was a woman. Her dark hair shorn around a vicious looking head wound. Her skin was pale, a faint bluish tint to it. There were more bandages around her chest, and she stuttered with every lungful of air.

Masae swallowed, and it wasn't out of fear. He knew the scent now.

Reiatsu.

Her reiatsu leaked into the air, the way it did when someone received a wound kido couldn't fix. Masae could smell it, and the hunger surged against his ribs.

 _We are starving, my heart._

Masae shut the door behind him with a click.

The woman's eyes cracked open, caught sight of Masae standing in the doorway. They were the blackish-brown of good earth. The woman offered him a weak smile. "Hello. Is it time for my check-up?"

 _We must eat my heart. Starvation is an ugly way to die._

So Masae smiled.

"Yeah," He said, and went towards the bed.

She said something else, but the only thing Masae could hear was the low growl coming from inside his head. It sounded like a song.

He was starving.

Prey. Injured and weak and blinking up at him with wide doe eyes.

Masae felt a weight in his hands and looked down.

He'd drawn his sword.

If Masae did this, there would be no turning back. The knowledge settled like a stone inside his head. He could feel a pulsing through his hand. Was it his heart? Or was it the blade?

He was so hungry.

Zanpakutos were more than just steel. They were a living extension of the shinigami they were made from.

Masae could feel it in his hands like a second heart.

He cut the woman's throat.

She made a choked sound of pain.

Quicker than a flash, Masae brought the blade around and pierced her through the heart. Weakly, she tugged at the blade, trying to get it out.

 _Ah, my heart._ The voice whispered. _Finally._

The woman started to - fade around the edges. Her hands sank into the blade like it was a made of water.

Everything in the seireite is reiatsu. Everything is made of the same stuff, the same basic parts.

A body is a tree is a stone is a star.

(If everything is the same -

\- couldn't Masae devour this world down to the core? Couldn't he do anything?

What made this vessel, this body, that held him any different from a rock or a blade of grass? What was the difference between Masae and his zanpakuto?)

Masae watched the woman struggle against the strange gravity of his sword and felt only curiosity. Curiosity and a rush of power so strong it almost staggered him. Blood spilled from her neck, and it filled the room with the smell of copper. Masae could practically taste the warm spill of blood on his tongue, the slide of flesh down his throat.

At least this way of eating was neater.

The woman sank deeper into the sword, throat bleeding, and light growing weaker and weaker in her eyes. Arms, torso, legs, all of them drawn into the sword like light into a black hole. Finally, the room was empty except Masae and his zanpakuto.

The hunger was gone.

Masae felt... content. Satiated.

He ran his hand down his zanpakuto.

It was warm and solid.

In the polished mirror of its blade, Masae could see his smile.

* * *

Masae rarely dreamed.

The night after Masae goes to bed with the memory, blood on his tongue is just like any other. The Rukongai got him used to iron and pennies in his mouth, and it didn't bother him anymore. When Masae wakes, He's somewhere different. He knows before he opens his eyes — he can't hear Aizen's slow breathing in the dark. There's dirt under his hands.

He sat up slowly.

It was a forest, probably. It was too foggy to see more than a few feet in any direction, but Masae can make out a few trees. They're all old and twisted with it, growing in every which way but straight. They creak and groan, but Masae can't feel any wind. The fog swirls around him anyway, catching weak moonlight. This forest untouched by fire, by humans — and it wanted to continue that. Masae wasn't welcome. Nothing living was.

He knew this place.

Masae was back in the forests outside Seireitei.

He looked down at himself and found he wore a Kimono, more hole than cloth, in a dark muddy brown. His feet were bare.

Masae curled his toes in the dirt. His last memory was lying down next to Aizen, comfortably full.

Was it a dream, the last two hundred years? Aizen, the Seireitei, leaving the forest? Was Masae not in the bleach universe at all, but some eternal purgatory? Did Aizen drug him with something then dump him out in the woods to die? Was he watching to see what Masae would do?

No. If Aizen were the cause of this, Masae would wake up strapped to a table. Aizen might have illusions, but Masae never saw Kyouka Sugeitsu drawn. He was careful to avoid it.

Masae paused and traced a light kido into the air. A pure spark of will, and it flashed. If the whole thing was a dream, then how would Masae know any kido at all? He let out a breath and closed his eyes.

Okay. Okay. Think. What the hell was going on?

Faint laughter filled the fog.

Familiar laughter. Only this time, it wasn't in the back of Masae's mind. It echoed through the fog, from no particular direction.

"Welcome, my heart." Masae's Zanpakuto said.

"My inner world," Masae said. He looked around and made a face. Fog and trees and the smudge of a moon far above. "I thought it'd be less...dreary."

"An inner world reflects what makes you, you," The voice said again. It still had the same strange resonance to it, as if a hundred people were saying the same thing layered over each other. A voice made to unsettle — and it did disturb Masae, if for the wrong reason. The voice contained too much affection. "This forest, this place, is what made you. Here, the broken human parts of you burnt out. Here, a monster who just wanted to survive did whatever it took. I opened my eyes, and there you were, brutal and perfect. Made just for me."

"Here," the voice said, and all the voices dropped except one. "Here, my heart was born."

The fog collapsed inward, swirling violently, and the shadows cast on it by the trees solidified into a mask, white as a bone with the pattern of dark branches and leaves cast across it. A mouth full of solid teeth carved into the mask, like tombstones all in arow. The kind of teeth made for grinding bones to dust. The eyes were gold. From the mask, a body formed, like spilling water from a pitcher. The body was fog, insubstantial. Masae could see the trees through it.

It glided across the floor, silently, and stopped in front of Masae. The creature towered over him, close to seven feet tall, and even in stillness, the fog making up its body swirled.

"It is good to finally speak face to face, my heart." Masae's Zanpakuto said, the mask's carved mouth unmoving. Another chilling laugh, like a group of hyenas or a hysterical crowd. It touched the mask. "So to speak."

The sleeves of its fog spun long kimono fell back to reveal hands — rust-red hands — the color of old blood.

Masae studied the mask again.

There was the barest hint of old blood in the carved teeth. No real sign of gender, but Masae already knew that. Some part of him insisted it was beyond such petty things as gender. It had long, dark hair, but the ends turned into the fog the same way its feet did. It seemed content to let Masae look.

"You're my Zanpakuto," Masae said. "You brought me here."

The creature tilted its head. "No. You brought yourself."

Masae could feel the truth of its words. "Why now?"

They shrugged. "It seemed like a perfect thank you for the meal."

Masae's stomach twisted again, hunger stabbing inside him like a thousand knives. He grunted in pain and doubled over. It was the hungriest he'd been in years like he was like being back in the forest again. He looked up to find it watching him with its blank mask and carved smile. The moonlight caught on the edge of the mask.

"This hunger belongs to you," Masae said.

It was unnatural. Unending.

Masae could eat and eat and eat and never be full.

It tilted its head again, and this time Masae got the impression of a smile. "Yes. In this world, you will always share my hunger as I shared yours. When you first woke in the forest, I was barely a seed in your soul. With every step, you shaped me. With every life you snuffed out, I grew stronger. Your hunger made me. I was born from it, shaped by it."

"How can you endure?" Masae asked.

The creature reached out with its sharp-clawed hands and cradled Masae's face. The rust coated hands were gentle enough to break a heart. "Endure? This hunger was a gift from my heart. Proof that I exist, and you exist. How could I be ungrateful for that? I starve, so when I eat, it is a gift beyond imagining. The only thing more beautiful than blood on my tongue is the voice of my heart. I do not bite the hand that feeds." It smiled. "At least, not yet."

"You have a mask."

It wears a mask, and it eats reiatsu. Eats souls.

It hears what Masae doesn't say.

Another laugh. Masae sees it's body swirling from the force of it out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, my clever heart. You are what you eat, I suppose. I am what _you_ ate."

In the forest - the real forest - Masae hunted and devoured anything he could get his hands on. Shinigami patrols that strayed too far from their den. Other souls unlucky enough to be reborn the way Masae had been. Hollows, when he could catch them. He didn't let morals or mercy stand in the way of his survival.

If this spirit is what he eats, then...

Part hollow. Part shinigami.

A natural Vizard.

Maybe the very first.

"Did Masae exist in the story before?" Masae wonders idly. His Zanpakuto's nails press against his skin, razor-sharp, but they don't break the skin. "Did Aizen know him?"

"Does it matter?" The figure asked, amused.

Masae considers. "Not really."

Masae is no Ichigo Kurosaki. He didn't ask to be where he was doing what he did, but neither does he revile himself for it. Morals made a poor substitute for meat and bread. So what if Masae had to eat humans to survive? It was only soul reaper arrogance that put themselves above the natural food chain in the first place.

Masae had no illusions about himself.

He also didn't believe in destiny. Whatever the source of Vizards in the story, Masae was different.

He'd get caught eventually. He knew that he wasn't strong enough to escape the whole soul society when every single one of them came after him — or threw him into the maggot's nest to rot away. Unohana wouldn't help. Aizen — don't make Masae laugh. He'd be the first to turn Masae in if it got him a little bit more creditably.

Masae needed a way out.

But that could wait. Soul Reapers left the Fourth without prior notice all the time. The older members never stopped bitching about it. While it technically happened on Unohana's turf, it wasn't one of her people who Masae killed. She wouldn't care that much. He had time.

"What is your name?" Masae asked.

The mask split for the first time to the edges as if the mouth was on a hinge. Like a snake, the mouth opening and revealing a dark cavern that seemed to go down forever, far too small to fit in the space it did. Row after row of different sets of teeth filled the endless space, alternating between wicked-looking needles and the same blunt crushing type on the mask. It was a mouth made for devouring. "I thought you'd never ask, my heart."

"My name is Hatashine Ue," It said.

Unending hunger.

"Fitting," Masae said

"I thought so," It said.

* * *

Masae woke to pale yellow light spilling across the floor, the shape of Aizen moving in the early morning. Masae felt warm from the inside out.

Full.

Stronger.

Masae was a monster, and it was nothing new. Power was power. Food was food. His reiatsu swelled up under his skin, but it was more than doubled. More power than the woman had.

 _How I long to share the feast with you, my heart._

...Ue.

Are you making me not care? Masae thought. About devouring that woman alive.

The voice - Hateshinai Ue- laughed. _My heart, you know the answer to that._

Yeah. Masae did.

He should be disgusted. There's blood on his teeth that belongs to someone else. He searches down into the chasm of his mind, the black pit of his memories, but he can find no disgust. He thinks about the forests and plains outside of the Seireitie's reach and knows them for their endlessness.

Every step he took through them burned away language, memory, grief, and pain until the only thing left was Masae himself.

Masae and the will to survive.

Hunger stays with you through even the worst moments.

He reached the Seiriete and had to relearn things he lost along the way, like language, and how to touch people without the intent to kill. Masae learned how to be a person again. He picked a name, a back-story. He learned to wear clothes like a person. He learned to exist outside of choosing a single direction and moving until his body gave out.

Life was eat or be eaten. Hollows and animals were all part of a great circle, and everything was fuel for everything else. Masae studied his hands. They looked solid, but they were made of reishi, the same as the ground he sat on and the air he breathed. What made it different from a rock, a tree, a could?

Masae slowly closed his hands and smiled.

Nothing.

Spirits dissolve into reishi when they die, and return to the world. Without the mind to hold it together, the body collapsed. Without the body to anchor it, the soul drifted apart. So the spirit clung to the body without a care for the pain it would suffer.

This was the price of living.

No one else seemed to notice. No life was worth more than any other. Nothing in the world was worth more than anything else.

Everything was equally priceless.

Everything was equally worthless.

 _It is only human arrogance that lets them think they are above it,_ Ue said. Its tone was soft as a sigh.

"I am human," Masae said.

 _We all have faults._

Masae laughed.

He would struggle to live because that was the prerogative of every living thing. He would fight and fight and fight, and when the time came that it wasn't enough, he would die like everything else.

 _And I will be there, my heart. The voice promised. When the time comes, I will devour you up until there's nothing left, and you will never be alone again. You are my wielder and my heart. How did it go again?_ The voice's amusement brushed against Masae's mind like wings. _I am thou and thou art I._

Masae wanted to live and if he had to kill to do it — well.

Living on stolen time wasn't different than living on borrowed time.

* * *

The day went on as usual. No one came after Masae.

(Masae saw snapshots of the woman's life when he slept sometimes. Her name was Yuki. She lived in the first district of Rukongai, and loneliness followed her like a pebble in her shoe. She had no family. No close friends. The Gotei 13 gave the chance to be a part of something bigger than herself. She was dedicated but unremarked upon.

She folded paper cranes on missions to the Rukongai. She left them littered behind her like sparks, like flowers, like a bloom of joy for the children who found them.

Her last memories were of teeth and terror.)

One night after his shift ended, Masae picked up a packet of origami and a glass jar the size of his head on the way home. He sat across from his husband, doing paperwork, and started to fold paper. Masae wasn't making cranes, though.

He was folding stars.

A single star, the color of a pale winter sky. None of the edges matched up quite right. Masae saw Yuki's pale hands folding and cutting neatly, but his hands were larger, clumsier.

"A new hobby, Masa?" Aizen asked without looking up.

"Yeah. Picked it up recently." Masae held the star up to the light.

Yuki, no last name.

Yuki, so desperate to not be forgotten.

Now she wouldn't be.

Masae dropped the star into the glass jar. It hit bottom with a small, clear sound.

"Dinner?" Aizen proposed with a smile. He reached out and touched Masae's face, and his hands were warm and came away with a red smear. "Kidomaru-san mentioned a new teriyaki place opened up by the tenth."

Masae stretched out, knocking their legs together under the low table. "I could go for some teriyaki."

Aizen's smile only got warmer. "I made reservations for tonight."

If Yuki smelled sweet, Aizen felt like a four-course meal. He would be so beautiful, terrified, and dying.

Not yet, though. Masae just had too much fun with him around.

Masae laughed, and Ue laughed with him. "Of course you did."

He added five more stars by the end of the week, all of them in different colors. Yellow as the sun, with a wave pattern of darker yellow. Black with silver trim. Green and gold striped. Blue and red.

Masae would remember not because of regret, or remorse; he would remember because of simple respect. Everything was equally priceless. Everything was equally worthless. Masae wasn't better than his prey -he was only stronger.

Some nights he dreamed of the same endless, misty forest.

It was second nature to start walking. He was always walking back then, without destination or purpose.

After a small eternity, another shadow joined Masae's.

Masae glanced up to watch the weak moonlight glint off Ue's mask. Then he looked back down at his own feet.

...It was nice not to walk alone.

* * *

Masae yawned and stretched back. Sealing got tedious at times, due to how many repetitions each seal required, and god help Masae if one line was out of place.

Man, he'd kill for a computer. The Fourth didn't get many missions in the living world, so Masae wasn't even sure what tech was like over there. Was the photocopier even invented yet?

It makes a man appreciate the little things.

 _You never know what you have until you break it, my heart._

 _That's not how the saying goes._

 _Isn't it?_

Masae rolled his eyes. _I'm not eating Sousuke._

A disappointed sigh. _You can't blame me for trying._

 _Tch_. Masae rolled his eyes again to hide the smile creeping upon his face.

A ping sounded off in the back of Masae's head. He paused mid-conversation and tilted his head.

Someone found one of Masae's sanctuaries for the first time in nearly three hundred years.

"Masa?" Sousuke asked.

Masae shooke his head, smiled, and went back to his food. Whoever it was would be there when dinner finished.

It was harder to get _out_ than to get in after all.

* * *

Masae was right. The intruder was there the next morning when Masae arrived at the sanctuary. It was a small one, barely the size of a closet, folded between the eleventh division outer wall and the trashed bar next door.

Nobody ever noticed when members of the eleventh went missing. Masae found that very convenient.

Masae slipped his ring from around his throat and slid it on. The familiar sensation a thin veil settling over him as the notice me not activated.

The door rippled when Masae stepped through. It felt like stepping through a wall of cold water and coming out dry on the other side and maybe would have been recognizable for fans of a certain boy wizard. He'd gotten rid of the need to take the whole thing down in the second iteration of the kido. Next, he was looking into making it movable, which was much, much more challenging than it seemed.

The room was small on the other side. Various bits and bobs of Masae's projects are scattered around. Papers and ink and brushes and bits of colored origami animals littered the shelves set up along the far sides. Masae used this place as a research center for his various disorientating Kidos. He had a couple more areas, each for a different thing.

The intruder was kneeling in the middle of the space, quiet except for his ragged breathing. He was blond and wearing an assassin's uniform, strange and backless. Chains wrapped around his throat and arms. They were dark against his fair skin.

Masae tilted his head.

Ue sent a tendril of curiosity. _He seems familiar. Something from another life, perhaps?_

The man's eyes had his closed and his breathing deep. He looked like he was meditating. His reiatsu swirled around him ineffectually.

Masae folded his arms and waited to see if it would work. Would he need to rework the trap?

The pressure built up to a crescendo.

He smells delicious, Ue said.

The chains disintegrated slowly. Masae watched for a moment longer, as the man got up while rubbing his wrist. He wasn't leaving, though — more curiosity than sense.

To reveal himself, or not to reveal himself. That was the question.

Eh. Fuck it.

Masae cut the power to his ring. "Yo."

The man jumped and spun around, hand, reaching for his sword.

It was already too late. The chains the man shrugged off before wrapped around his torso again and bound his arms, wrenching them behind his back. He struggled against them, but the same trick wouldn't work twice.

Masae folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure you're not supposed to be in here."

He watched his eyes flicker over the soul reaper uniform, watched the way information was collected and slotted away.

"You built this place," Urahara said.

 _We do like this one_ , my heart.

Masae tilted his head. "And, you're trespassing."

The blonde swallowed. Masae followed the flex of his throat, the graceful curve of it. The man was beautiful, indeed.

"Who are you?" The blond asked. He sounded scared, nervous, but the emotion didn't reach his cold eyes.

 _That one is trouble,_ Ue murmured. It sounded entertained. _We should keep him._

 _Something tells me Sousuke would object._

 _Our Sousuke has no right to complain. He has his toys, does he not?_

Masae smiled lazily. "You're onmitsukido?"

"Did the uniform give me away?"

"That and the stink of blood," Masae said, voice dry.

The man went quiet.

Masae glanced at the man's bare back. Various little cuts and bruises were littering the surface of it, but nothing that would give off the scent of iron.

Masae's eyes dropped to the man's hands.

Red fairly dripped from them.

Ue let out an interested hum. _He smells divine, my heart._

"You got a name?" Masae asked.

The blonde only watched Masae with wary eyes.

"Either you tell me your name, or I got to Captain Unohana," Masae raised an eyebrow at the kid. "I'm sure she'd be very curious to know what the second division is doing, snooping around one of her people's workplaces."

Unohana was very protective of the fourth — even the monstrous parts. Masae knew that first hand.

The way the man carefully didn't flinch said he knew it too. Then he took a deep breath, and his whole frame relaxed. "You're not going to do that."

Masae smiled. "Oh? Why not?"

"I'm fairly sure this whole place is illegal," The blond says. Age is hard to grasp in the seireitei unless the person in question is very, very old or very, very young. Masa pins this man as younger than him anyway. He was trying for nonchalance, but the way his eyes are darting around betrays his interest. "You're breaking several laws just having this place. The whole area is at the breaking point. I'm not sure how you're not — tearing a hole in space-time just by looking at the matrices -"

 _Such a smart snack, my heart. I do like him._

"-and you're not even listening to me, are you?"

Masae blinked and swung his legs off the table. "Hey, what's your name?"

The man is wary. "I don't think I should tell you that."

With a flick of Masae's fingers and a tiny spark of kido, the man's chains tightened. Not enough to hurt, but enough to get the message across. If Masae wanted to make it hurt, he could.

The man tensed. The Zanpakuto strapped to his back rattles in its sheath ominously. "...Urahara Kisuke, of the second division."

Oh. Oh!

Hat and clogs, that's right! Without the fuzzy recollection of the green striped hat, Kisuke looked a lot younger and less shady than his cannon counterpart. Just as smart though, because he was the first one in nearly three hundred years to find one of Masae's sanctuaries.

(Not including Aizen, because Masae told Aizen they existed in the first place.)

Kisuke not only found it on his own but managed to break in. If anyone else tried it, the sanctuary would have destabilized and collapsed on the one trying to get in, possibly killing them in the process as whatever bits were inside would get vanished. It was a nasty little fail-safe that Masae was very proud of.

 _I take it we won't be eating him, then?_

 _Nah_.

Urahara was one of Masae's favorites in the past.

A long sigh. _Shame. His reiatsu smells delicious._

Masae caught a whiff of something dark and sweet and metallic, like cherries and copper. Somehow it smelled very red - like it would burst between Masae's teeth like a ripe fruit.

Masae pushed down the swelling hunger.

 _No_ , he thought pointedly. _Bad Zanpakuto._

Kisuke was not for eating. Not until Masae got hungry enough, anyway.

Masae snapped his fingers again, and the kido chains dissolved, sinking back into the floor like water being absorbed into the ground.

"Nice to meet you, Kisuke," Masae chirped.

The man stayed on his knees, eying Masae. He rubbed the red marks on his wrist. "What..."

"I'm busy, so I guess you'll have to see yourself out. I got a big date tonight, and you would not _believe_ how petty my husband gets when I'm late. It's kinda impressive," Masae thought of Aizen's icy gaze and perfectly smooth voice when he was displeased with Masae and had to stifle a laugh. It was funny when Aizen was irritated enough to drop the act.

"You're just letting me go?"

Masae shrugged. "I like you. You seem like a smart guy. Plus, I don't have the time to kill you properly and clean up. Way too messy."

Kisuke didn't seem afraid like a reasonable person would be. Instead, Masae noticed a calculation in his sharp eyes. His gaze flicked around the room, taking the endless designs on the walls, the closed door, the lines of kido on the floor, Masae himself.

"If you kill me, the door stays shut," Masae informed him conversationally, fully relaxed. "So go for it, if you like starving to death, I guess."

Masae could almost see how fast Kisuke was thinking. Fascinating. This was the most entertained Masae's been with a person in a long time. What was Kisuke going to do next?

 _Our Sousuke is waiting for us, my heart. We will be late._

Oh.

Masae heaved an internal sigh and twitched a finger.

The door dissolved into sparks, leaving an obvious way out.

Kisuke stared at Masae. He still hadn't stopped kneeling in the middle of the floor.

Masae gave him a little 'shoo, shoo' motion. "Go on, Kisuke. Run along now. I wasn't kidding about being busy, you know."

Kisuke slowly got to his feet. "I broke into your very illegal personal space, and you're just... letting me go?"

"Yup."

"What makes you think I won't just go to my captain and tell her that you attacked one of her members? Yoruichi-sama doesn't take kindly to people just attacking her people."

Masae laughed and hopped off the table. He walked over to Kisuke. Masae was a little shorter than him, but that was normal. He wasn't a very tall man in this life.

It was kind of cute that Kisuke was trying to bluff Masae anyway.

Futile, but cute.

Masae patted Kisuke on his cheek, condescension in every movement. "You're not going to tell anyone about this. You're too curious."

Kisuke carefully didn't react, and Masae new he was right.

Even while in danger, the man wasn't afraid. He was radiating poorly suppressed excitement even now. Masae could almost taste it in the air. Kisuke wanted to take this place apart. He wanted to tear into Masae's brain and figured out what made it tick. He wanted to know how Masae built this place.

If Kisuke begged prettily enough, Masae might even tell him.

(Aizen was fun, and Masae liked him an awful lot, but Masae wasn't one to stay faithful. Life was too short to stop himself from going after what he wanted.)

Kisuke watched him with those dark, sharp eyes, and Masae smiled. Kisuke hadn't moved away from Masae's hand yet. Masae watched his pupils dilate, saw Masae's face reflected.

 _What sharp teeth you have, my heart._ Ue said.

 _Sharp enough to eat you with._

Interesting.

Masae patted Kisuke on the cheek, turned, and walked out the door. He had a date, and there was nothing in this sanctuary cared about.

Except, perhaps, the young man who broke in.

Masae walked away with his hands behind his head, whistling. After a moment, his Zanpakuto started humming along.

It was a good day.

* * *

No one tries to assassinate Masae overnight. No one even tries to ask about a strange space found by the eleventh division.

What does happen is this:

A young woman from the fourth knocks on the room Masae's cleaning before peeking inside.

He gives her a sunny smile, and the girl blushes a pretty red.

"Can I help you?"

"You have a visitor from the second division, Masae-san. A man called Urahara Kisuke? I think he's from the second."

Masae paused, then a slow smile spread over his face. Quicker than he expected.

"Thank you! I'll be right out," Masae said.

Masae does enjoy being right.

It's lucky for him that he so often is.

* * *

 **This is way to freaking long**

 **also, hey kisuke :3**

 **the theme for the scene with unohana was just "unohana scary" in my scene notes. thanks past me.**


End file.
